


Bad Habits

by milkyy



Category: Gintama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 18:57:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3907033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkyy/pseuds/milkyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been a long morning and all Hijikata wanted was his damn coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Habits

**Author's Note:**

> Writing 1000 word prompts to practice (and because I have lots of ideas that need writing haha) so you'll probably see more of these mini fics floating around the fandom in the near future haha I hope you enjoy! (*＾ワ＾*)

Hijikata Toushiro, like anyone, had a few bad habits. He cursed. He smoked. He chewed his bottom lip when he wasn’t smoking. He also rapidly tapped his foot on the ground when he wasn’t smoking. And he yelled at people when he was smoking. Actually, most of his bad habits came from when he wasn’t smoking. 

Including his habit of drinking way too much coffee at one time for a normal human being. He’d admit that sometimes he was a little excessive. But after a sleepless three-day stakeout on the western side of the city with nothing but his sword and Sougo snapping his gum to keep him company, Hijikata felt he deserved the 34 ounces of coffee he ordered Yamazaki to go fetch for him. 

And when it finally came it was just as piping hot and black as he asked for it with just enough room to add a dollop of mayonnaise. He pretended to be busied with his paperwork as Yamazaki came in, tapping the ash off his lit cigarette. He didn’t want to appear too eager. But he could practically smell the caffeine wafting off the top of it, rich and bold. God, it smelled so good. 

“Here, Vice-Chief,” Yamazaki said, doing a miserable job at carefully kneeling down. He handed over the cup with his perpetually shaky hands—not the best trait in a coffee fetcher, but Hijikata decided to make do with what he had. And anyway, Yamazaki already knew exactly what roast Hijikata liked, how much room he wanted, and to already remove the lid so Hijikata could stir in his mayonnaise. Because this wasn’t the first time that he was asked to run to the nearest coffee shop at 5:30 in the morning (the shit they brewed at the Shinsengumi headquarters simply wasn't acceptable) and convince them that he wasn’t providing coffee for a group—no, he really wanted 34 ounces of coffee in one cup, don’t worry he came prepared with a thermos. “I made sure that they didn’t give you that one coffee that you said tasted like ass.” 

The coffee sloshed dangerously at the rim of the cup. 

“Thank you,” Hijikata primly replied, reaching forward to relieve Yamazaki of the cup before he dripped it all over the chaotic stack of paperwork on the desk. That would be tremendously annoying. Enough to commit seppuku over. Unlike most people who would simply use a computer to reprint the damaged papers, Hijikata was a man of tradition. And something about not using a brush and ink to send his data off was untraditional. Therefore, even if he received a printed report, he would always leave his comments and signature in brush stroked ink—which was a pain in the ass to reciprocate especially when said stack was probably 557 papers tall. 557 papers that he was proud he took the time to finish and could now, finally take a break. 

Hijikata went straight to get his mayonnaise once he had his coffee on the desk, secured and away from Yamazaki’s clumsiness. He always kept a bottle on hand. 

For now, he didn’t address the face Yamazaki was making as he squeezed the mayonnaise from the bottle in one long string before it sank with a glop. He had no time for it, no energy. He salivated as stirred the mayonnaise in. This was his first taste of anything besides water in two days. Not even mayonnaise. And that was hard. 

He lifted the cup to his lips and let it linger there for a moment, inhaling the vaporized coffee and mayo. 

“Hijikata!” 

Then, he inhaled actual coffee and mayo.

He also happened to drop the cup while he was at it. Coffee, just as piping hot as it was black, was down his shirt and in his crotch. It was also all over his desk. And his paperwork. 

“Oh good, I’m glad you’re here. I was just checking.” Hijikata heard Okita Sougo’s voice. He knew it was him even before that. No one came barging into Hijikata’s office at 6:00 a.m. with so much purpose. Only Sougo. He must have saw Yamazaki carry in the cup coffee, and thought gee, “that looks hot enough to leave a brand.” 

Hijikata was stiff. He couldn’t move. He probably could but he didn’t want to, not with his last chance of survival spilt all over his balls. 

“Oh no. Looks like you spilled your coffee,” Sougo said. He was standing in the doorway, arms crossed smugly over his chest. 

Meanwhile, Yamazaki was looking at Hijikata, wide eyed and horrified—the way he usually looked before he started his nervous sputtering. “V-Vice Chief.” 

They shared a heartbeat in silence, and in that heartbeat Hijikata could hear the blood rushing through his ears, see Yamazaki hollering something as he scrambled up onto his feet, feel the fast-cooling coffee slowly seeping through his boxers. He thought of fields of wheat, Kondo’s laughter, an endless flowing supply of mayonnaise being served to him by the gods of mayo themselves. 

Whatever happened next was a blur. Yamazaki was back with a heap of napkins, helplessly blotting at Hijikata’s shirt. He said something to Sougo—the smart ass replied with something a smart ass would say. 

Hijikata just let it happen. He found himself smiling, bags under his eyes, looking maniacal. “Sougo. Yamazaki. I’ll be leaving,” he suddenly said, getting up. 

He stole into the bathroom. There was some guy at the third urinal but threatening to throttle him was enough to get him to willingly leave. Hijikata flopped against the bathroom door as soon as he slammed it shut. Rumor has it, the Demon Vice Chief passed out there. Some say he pitched a legendary temper tantrum beforehand and trashed the place. There were cigarette butts everywhere. Some claim he even cried. 

Either way, Hijikata Toshirou was able to break a few of his bad habits that day, deciding he was much better when he had a cigarette instead.


End file.
